An Unorthodox Place to Call Home

Photo Courtesy: © Peter H. B ick

By Katie Willis, Swimming World College Intern

The smell of latex is strong and my lungs are about to burst. My muscles are ripped and torn down. I can feel the joints holding my shoulder in place pop with each short extension. The straps of this damn $400 suit are burrowing into the curve of my collarbone. I’m here regretting getting two sizes too small as the pressure makes it hard to breathe. I look around, seeing girls with bigger biceps, bigger thighs, and even bigger egos. They all look at me with a certain disgust as we all step up to the block. I take my place in the center lane. Arms frantically moving, legs shaking.

“Step up.”

My heart is racing.

“Take your mark.”

Fingers curled over the edge. Waiting on that dragged out beep to sound. I swear I’ve done this too many times to count. This repetitive process. Practically destroying my body. All for that silly goal time. That time that seems almost ungraspable. That’s what keeps my body moving.

I was never confident in my abilities as a swimmer. I don’t think I was ever confident about anything. As far as I can remember, I’ve always been a timid person who cared too much about what people thought. I’ve always had this paranoia and it often surfaces before my races. Never in my life have I stood up there, cap and googles on, thinking:

“I’m going to win.”

More often it’s a series of oh no’s or oh god’s. You’d think at one point you would know what to expect and just get over those fears, but I seem to be an exception to the rule.

Photo Courtesy: Annie Grevers

“You need to relax.”

Relax was never in my vocabulary. Standing up on that block with my hands pressing my goggles into my eyes with a sigh. Staring down at the still water, all while your mind goes blank. There is a split second between the start and submersion into the water. You don’t have time to think, your body takes over. I can’t remember any of my races almost as if I wasn’t even there.

And when it’s all over, you look at that score board and in that moment your eyes glaze over that time, you know. You know how you could’ve done better, knowing that you may screwed up something along the way, and knowing that you can never swim that particular race ever again.

Simply taking my mistakes, telling myself each day, “Tomorrow I’ll be stronger”

I believe that some may misunderstand swimming to be an individual sport; it’s a team sport. You don’t swim for yourself, you swim for your team. A swim team is like a family. We, a group of somewhat awkward individuals, whom all share a similar passion and love.

On the last day of conference, it was Valentine’s Day and I cried.

Because of those damn nerves, because I doubted myself. I couldn’t hit that time. I had three tries that day, and I failed all three. I remember dragging myself out of the pool after my last race. Sitting there, feeling rather defeated as the tears began to swell in my eyes. The other racers finish and my teammates rush over. Touching my face, stroking my arms, all while I feel the imminent crying spill out. Me, having done so well that weekend, having scored a lot of points for my team, was sitting there crying about one stupid race.

My teammates lifted me to my feet, embracing me. Telling me that “It’s okay.”

And that was when those tears of failure turned to those of love. Love for my teammates, for individuals who have cared for me more than anyone has ever. And so I stand up on that first place podium with a smile, looking down at my teammates who cheer and smile back. All while thinking that this experience is worthwhile and how lucky I am. Realizing that my teammates are the best people I’ve ever met in these 19 years. For once knowing this feeling of belonging.

It’s funny to think that when I was younger people would tell me college would be where I would meet the people that would stay with me forever, and I’m finally starting the believe that.

Name*

Email*

Welcome to our community. We invite you to join our discussion. Our community guidelines are simple: be respectful and constructive, keep on topic, and support your fellow commenters. Commenting signifies that you agree to our Terms of Use